


Codependent

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Picture, if you will, the moment after the fade-out on Spike and Riley sharing a bottle in the crypt after Riley’s fake stake attempt…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glassdarkly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glassdarkly/gifts).



> This is for Shapinglight who asked for some Spike/Riley, preferably in the mode of my "Large and In Charge" Spiley fic.
> 
> I decided to write the Spiley I have ALWAYS wanted to write.

“Well, don’t boggart it.”

Riley looked up. Spike pointed at the bottle. “Oh. Sorry.” He held it out. Spike moved closer. They were past the tossing stage in the shared drinking.

“What I don’t figure,” Spike said, far more cheerfully than Riley would have liked, “is the whole biting business. I suppose it’s like that cat and mouse thing, where the mouse gets jonesing for cats because of a bacteria or something.”

Riley stared at Spike. “You really don’t get it?”

Spike scowled. “What?” He handed back the whisky bottle.

“Come on. You’re the vampire. You should know more about biting than I do.”

Spike leaned back, apparently just to lend extra height to his raised eyebrow. “Okay, first off – all being a vampire says is that you have, in fact, been bitten once. Second off, you don’t need even that to know it HURTS.” Spike frowned at Riley’s expression. “Doesn’t it?”

“Really the opposite. Seriously? All those years? You never… with other vampires?”

“Well, yeah – Dru and I used to nip at each other and Angelus… well, he has dominance issues. But it always hurt, mate.”

Riley shrugged. “Maybe you were doing it wrong.” He smiled as he passed the bottle back to soften the blow, but Spike looked genuinely offended.

“There’s no ‘doing it wrong’.”

Maybe it was the alcohol starting to calm and warm him, but Riley couldn’t help saying, “Seems to me you’re a crappy vampire if you can’t even bite someone without it hurting.”

“Oi! I could if I wanted. Just… never wanted.”

“Really? Because if you could bite without it hurting, genius, you’d be able to feed with the chip.”

Riley barely held back his laugh at the dumbfounded look on Spike’s face that melted into transparent plotting. “You think that’d work?”

“You’d have to try to find out.”

Spike drained the last of the whiskey bottle and then dropped himself into the spot right next to Riley. “Let’s have a go, then,” he said.

“Woah.” Riley pushed him away. “You’re not my type.”

Spike managed to crawl onto Riley before he could push him away. “Sure I am. I have fangs. Come on, you can’t throw down the gauntlet like that and not give us a go.”

“Dude.”

“Shush.” Spike’s eyes tracked to Riley’s neck. He licked his lower lip, a look of careful concentration stilling his features.

“Seriously,” Riley said, “I’m not comf… oh fuck.”

Spike’s lips were cool and gentle on Riley’s neck, the tips of his fangs lightly grazing his skin. Goosebumps sprung out along the entire right side of Riley’s body. “Stop that,” he said, unconvincingly.

And then, with maddening slowness, those fangs sank into his skin. Riley felt Spike release a held breath at the same time that he did. And then the fangs sank a little more.

Riley pressed down hard on the desire to groan. Spike’s body was tense and hard against him, quivering slightly. He could feel the repressed hunger, barely under control. There was something so perverse about that tension mixed with the slowly building, too-gentle pleasure spreading like warmth from his neck. Riley found himself holding on tightly to Spike, not sure if he wanted to scream at him to stop or go harder. A little edge of pain was all that was missing. (He hadn’t lied about the pleasure, but Spike was right about the pain – it was just that, done right, pain was like a spice on pleasure.)

Spike’s fangs sank a fraction deeper, a spark of sensation, sharp and bright, sent Riley over the edge. His vision whited out and he felt himself come, hard and long.

Riley blinked away stars and gasped for breath. His jeans were sticking to him and rapidly cooling. He shifted uncomfortably and saw Spike hunched over, hands on his head.

Then those bright blue eyes were peeking over at him, and a smirk covered the pained expression. “Guess one of us really enjoyed that.”

Riley stumbled to his feet and did his best to run away, though he had to take several wide bow-legged steps around the stiff denim at his crotch. He heard Spike laughing as he staggered out into the night.

***

Spike woke in the middle of the day, hard and frustrated. It had been hell, controlling himself, sipping so slowly while delicious, hot fresh blood trickled into his mouth.

Absolute hell. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The bagged blood in his fridge looked utterly unappetizing, so he hadn’t eaten. He didn’t want to take the taste away from his mouth. Sweet and tangy and salty and HUMAN.

He shifted and took himself in hand. Wouldn’t the farm boy be thrilled to know he’d become Spike’s primary wank-fantasy?

It was quite the head trip, though, how Riley had come without even being touched. Spike had felt the hot, hard impressions on his biceps where Riley’s hands had gripped him, held onto him like a drowning man. Christ, who wouldn’t want to be wanted so completely?

It had been a full day since The Bite and there hadn’t been a moment he hadn’t thought about it, replayed it, considered how he could have avoided that moment when he went a little too far and set off the chip.

He closed his eyes, breathed out slowly, and tried to come up with an image other than Riley as his hand slowly teased his length. Dru. Buffy. Angel. Hell, Harmony. Anyone but… no, there he was, warm and muscular and desperate. Strong. Alive.

Spike gave in to the fantasy. His hand sped up, stripping up and over the crown, twisting just a little. He lifted his hips from the bed and breathed heavily.

The door upstairs banged open. Heavy footsteps. A hearbeat. Christ. Spike stilled a moment, considered whether he could get off before the big oaf came down the stairs and, regretfully, decided it was not likely. Besides, a small part of him he didn’t want to admit was more interested in seeing Riley than finishing his wank. He even pulled on his jeans, though he left them unbuttoned, before climbing up the ladder to the main floor two rungs at a time.

“What’s this, then?” He popped up, grinning.

Riley looked away and fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt. “I should… uh… never mind.” He turned back to the door.

Spike easily got between him and the exit. “Not come to warn me off your girl again? Or, what? Did one of the little kiddies fall down a well and you need old Spike’s help? No?” He lowered his voice, “or are you jonesing for a little fang?”

Spike could smell the blood rising in Riley’s cheeks. “Fuck you,” he said.

Spike smiled, mouth open to taste more of the delicious shame pouring off the boy. “That might cost extra.”

The spike of spicy arousal in the air and Riley’s hot look told him that might not be so idle an idea. Spike licked his lips. “Fifty,” he said.

Riley blinked and took a step back. “I’m not paying you.”

“Why not? You paid in the suck-house.”

“Those vampires could kill me. They could be out killing – they accept payment in exchange for just tasting.”

“Sure, bring up my little problem, that’ll woo me.”

“I’m not trying to woo you.”

“Liar.” Spike stepped close enough to feel the brush of Riley’s hard cock through denim. He licked his lips. “Why else would you be in my crypt with your tongue hanging out?”

Riley exhaled, long and slow and hot against Spike’s cheek. “Just bite me,” he said, low and quick.

“We haven’t agreed on my payment.”

Riley picked Spike up and pushed him against the wall. “You get my blood.”

Spike had to admit it did something to him, being manhandled by a large man like that. He bit his lip. They locked eyes. He slowly released his breath. “Don’t tell the other vampires I’m this easy.”

Riley let him down. “You are anything but easy.”

“Come downstairs, let’s do this right and comfortable.” Spike glanced down. “You might want to take your jeans off this time.”

He hopped down to the lower level, knowing that Riley would follow and feeling rather smug about that.

Spike sat back against the headboard and fluffed the pillows to make himself comfortable. Riley came down the ladder like he was going to be punished. He stood awkwardly at the foot of the ladder, looking across at Spike. “This isn’t… it’s not like that.”

“Oh, so you didn’t come all over yourself last time?”

Riley looked away, jaw tight. “It’s not… sexual.”

“Leave your pants on, then, just don’t blame me when they’re sticking to you. Comfortable walk home, was it?”

Riley put one hand on the ladder, and then one foot, and then his shoulders sank and he turned back toward the bed. He unzipped and shucked his jeans, approaching in just his shirt. His cock was full and hard and quite hefty. Spike imagined it would be silky and hot in his hand, but pushed back that thought. This was about getting HIMSELF off and he would, too, this time. He just had to control himself long enough.

Riley was stiff, sitting down, grudgingly scooting closer. Every line of his body hard and unwilling, save that eager cock pushing out from under the hem of his shirt. “Let’s get this over with.”

Spike considered taking his own jeans off, too. They were already tight and uncomfortable. The two of them must look quite the pair –one nude from the waist down and the other from the waist up. But Riley might bolt if Spike stripped down, so he decided not to. Riley flinched at Spike’s first touch on his arm, but held still. Christ he was warm, all that delicious heat radiating even through the rough fabric of his polo shirt. Still, Spike only touched him as little as possible to get into position. He looked a long time at the still-fresh puncture at the join of Riley’s neck and shoulder. No, his plan was to go for a deeper vein, a slower tap. He moved down the shoulder to wear the muscle was thick and let his fangs descend.

It was slow work, getting into the skin, but Spike felt like he had a good idea how fast he could go this time. He focused on not reacting when the first drop of blood hit him, pre-imagining the taste and the sensation. He was so focused it wasn’t until he’d been drinking a few seconds that he realized Riley had relaxed and had pulled closer to him. Easily they molded together, chest to chest. No, not sexual at all. Spike wrapped his arms and legs around the thick, muscular body and used the contact to ground himself against the maddening itch screaming at him to gorge, hurt, kill.

Riley really did have a monster of a cock, and it felt good, hard and solid, pressing against Spike’s through denim. It seemed natural to press together in rhythm with Riley’s quickening heartbeat. The denim was getting more uncomfortable, but Spike kept at it, feeling the draw of zipper teeth sawing into his flesh.

It was Riley who pushed Spike’s jeans down and urged him out of them. The wriggle around slowed his feeding, but oh, it was worth it to be skin-on-skin, smooth and warm. The hot head of Riley’s cock fucked eagerly against his stomach, smearing hot dribbles of pre-cum between them. Spike slipped a hand between them and grabbed both cocks together. It felt marvelous and maddeningly not enough, just like the blood trickling past his lips. He pumped once and felt Riley stiffen, felt the orgasm move through him like an earthquake. The unexpected power of it drew Spike right over the edge with him. Cold and hot spunk mixed between them, smeared into an adhesive as they shuddered to a stop.

Spike licked his lips, and the small wound on Riley’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he said. Bonelessly, he fell back on the bed. Riley was a heavy weight on top of him. They were still and silent together for a while. Spike cleared his throat. “This might become a problem,” he said.

Riley picked himself up on his elbows. His hair was hanging in his face, pupils were still blown wide. “Huh?”

“We have a problem,” Spike said. He gestured between them. “Like a drug problem that walks around and talks and might stake me. I don’t see this ending well.”

Riley nodded at the bed-sheet between his elbows. Then he looked up. “Maybe not,” he said. And then he leaned over and kissed Spike, firmly on the lips. “But I don’t know what I’d do with happy ever after, anyway.”

Spike stared in amazement after Riley as he got up and put his jeans back on. Something stirred in his chest and he laughed. “No, I wouldn’t either. Oh, we are fucked.”

Riley didn’t disagree, Spike noted, only smiled a little sadly and beat his hasty retreat.

“Truly, truly fucked.” Spike tried to care a bit. Instead, he made a mental note to find out where Riley lived and get an invite.


	2. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mod challenge for shapinglight who requested more Spike/Riley in the vein of what I've already written with this pairing.
> 
> Some dialog taken from the episode "Intervention".

Riley knew a lot about denial. It was right there in his textbook on coping mechanisms.  
  
That wasn’t the only place he knew it from.  
  
“So,” Buffy dropped into the seat next to him at the table in the back of the Magic Box. “I thought you had some big new job in far away land?”  
  
Riley cleared his throat. “I decided to finish my PhD.”  
  
“Hm,” said Spike, leaning against a back wall. When Riley looked at him, the blond vampire looked away.  
  
“Oh. Well… good. It’s good that we can, you know, be friends, work together.”  
  
“Yeah. It’s good.”  
  
Spike’s softly-muttered, “Christ,” was the perfect punctuation on the awkwardness.  
  
“And why are YOU still hanging around?” Buffy turned sharply to Spike.  
  
He lifted one shoulder. “Bored.”  
  
Riley pretended to pay attention to his book. He pretended to pay attention when the group was all there and discussing the latest dilemma – something with a super-strong girl? He put in an Oscar-worthy performance with an audience of one. Only Spike knew that he was there just because Spike was, because he had to be near him, had to see the press of his lips, the pink tip of his tongue when he spoke, his teeth.  
  
Spike’s mouth opened, his tongue travelled slowly along his lower lip and stopped there.  
  
Riley shook his head, re-focusing his gaze to realize Spike was giving him a knowing leer. Riley forced his eyes to his book. Reading. Reading about… Denial. Oh, irony.  
  
Riley felt Buffy shift in her chair next to him. She was letting her hair cover her face, avoiding Spike’s gaze, a bit of color on her cheeks.   
  
Spike gave Riley a smug nod.  
  
What was that? Riley stared at words on the page that kept sliding apart and together. He could not remember a single word said during the meeting, had he been asked.  
  
As everyone started leaving, he closed his books, and followed them out. He hoped he hadn’t been given an important job. He supposed he should wander around and look for something evil.  
  
Spike dropped into step beside him. “Sorry you had to see that,” Spike said, in a smug voice that betoked the exact opposite sentiment.  
  
“See what?” Riley said, and saw Spike’s face fall, for a moment.  
  
It was just a moment. His leer returned. “Slayer’s got the hots for me,” he said, rocking on the balls of his feet. “I confessed my feelings. It was moving. Well, didn’t really end all that great, but for a while there I had three ladies in my lair. Jealous?”  
  
Riley felt a stab in his throat, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. “Why should I be? You’re both free to do what you want.” Riley lengthened his stride and kept his gaze firmly forward.  
  
Spike jogged backwards in front of him. “Liar. You’re jealous.”  
  
Riley kept walking, trying to ignore him. “Buffy and I broke up. It’s not my business anymore.”  
  
“Wasn’t talking about Buffy.” Spike raised his chin. “Come on, put those big hands on me and make me think twice about fooling around on you.”  
  
Riley stopped. He sighed.   
  
“Oh,” Spike purred, “Like you don’t love throwing your muscle around.”  
  
“Spike, we’re not in a relationship.”  
  
Spike’s eyebrows rose and knit together. His mouth fell open and then compressed into a tight line. “Is that right.”  
  
“I’m… look, it’s…”  
  
Spike threw his head back and laughed. “Oh please don’t give me some whitebread brush-off. It’s not you, it’s me? It’s not passion and blood and sex, oh wait… it is.”  
  
Riley felt himself blushing to the roots of his hair. He tightened his grip on his books and walked purposefully head, brushing past Spike when he tried to stop him. “I don’t want to have this conversation on the street, thanks.”  
  
“Fine. I’ll just go talk to BUFFY since I’m not in a RELATIONSHIP.”  
  
Riley groaned. Spike was supposed to be so much older than him, why did it feel like he was dating a high-schooler?  
  
Except, of course, they weren’t dating. He kept his path forward, his eyes on the pavement in front of him. He didn’t look up until he had to open to door to his dorm, at which point he stood there, still, looking at the empty, well-lit entryway, wondering why he was so shocked not to see Spike there.  
  
***  
  
“We need your help,” Xander said, leaning in the door to Riley’s dorm room. “We’re doing an intervention.”  
  
Riley blinked slowly. “Well, I’m not actually a psychiatrist, you know.”  
  
“It’s Buffy. No, it’s Spike. Well, actually it’s Buffy. Just, come on, I’ll explain on the way.”  
  
Riley felt dizzy as he followed Xander out of the building. “No… he was just making things up. Because he’s mentally thirteen years old.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I wish that were the entire story, but Willow and I saw it with our own four eyes and believe me, the image is still burning on my retinas.”  
  
Riley felt like he’d been sucker-punched. “That can’t be right. All I saw was, I mean, they did look at each other this one time.”  
  
“I’m hoping for magic spells,” Xander said. “But it could be grief making her do the wacky.”  
  
Riley felt another stab. He hadn’t been able to comfort Buffy much, feeling like the unwanted ex, an outsider and insider at the same time. “I thought Buffy was moving on, getting back to normal business.”  
  
“There’s that patented Sunnydale denial!” Xander clapped him on the back. “It’s almost like you grew up here.”  
  
I’m in a love triangle, Riley thought. It made him stop in place and Xander had to tug him forward. No, no that wasn’t right. The thing with him and Spike, it was about… a nasty secret habit. It was about the bite for him and the blood for Spike, a fair exchange of vices. He wasn’t jealous.  
  
He just really, really hoped Xander was imagining this.  
  
***  
  
Spike didn’t get the bot ENTIRELY to make Riley jealous. It was also a way to work out his inexplicable, WRONG attraction to the slayer. Rather like how Riley was using him to work out his inappropriate feelings toward getting bit.  
  
He looked down at the shiny, perfect blonde hair, smelling faintly of plastic, and sighed. I’m just like this thing, he thought: a crutch, a habit, stupidly programmed to seek love.  
  
“Who’s that?” Buffybot perkily asked, as the sound of footsteps approached.  
  
“Uh…” Spike hurried zipped up. “Down there,” he pointed to the ladder to his luxury lower level. “No matter what, don’t come out until I come get you.”  
  
“Okay!” She cheerfully accepted and –way, way too slowly – climbed down the steps.  
  
When Spike turned and saw Riley and Xander come in together, he almost called her back up. “Oh, it’s you.”  
  
“I saw you in the cemetery, with Buffy,” Xander said.  
  
Spike cut his eyes quickly to Riley. “Yeah?” He smiled and ran a hand down his stomach, trying to look unconcerned and sexy at the same time. “Can’t see how it’s any business of yours.”  
  
“It’s my business because Buffy’s my friend. She’s going through a lot of stuff right now and you’re taking advantage of her.”  
  
Spike relaxed. This was a story he could run with. He shrugged. “She’s upset about her mum. And if she turns to me for comfort, well…”  
  
“You are so full of it,” Riley shouted. The big boy-scout looked caught out when Xander gaped at him. Spike loved seeing Riley trying so hard to control himself. Oh yes, this was all working to his advantage.  
  
Riley crowded up to Spike, looming over him in that appealing way of his. “You aren’t comforting her. You’re using her.”  
  
“Oh? You think?” Spike let his mouth hang open, licking his upper teeth, which he knew drove Riley to distraction. “Using her for what, do you think?”  
  
Riley’s pupils dilated. His breath was coming in hard little pants. “Stop it.”  
  
“Stop what?” Spike playfully leaned forward, breathing in Riley’s exhales. Would Captain Straightlaced give in to his rage? Let the puppy see what he’d been up to?  
  
Xander spoke. “Buffy has lots of friends and we love her very much and we’ll do what we have to to protect her.”  
  
Riley flinched back, seeming to realize how close he’d come to giving up the truth. Spike groaned. “For Christ’s sake, droopy, give us a mo’.”  
  
“If that means killing you, then, well, that’s just a bonus,” Xander said, stepping forward as Riley stepped back. Xander looked to Riley for confirmation, but the big solider looked baffled and lost.  
  
Spike ignored the instinct to comfort him. “No one’s going to kill me. I’m too sexy.”  
  
Then the door burst open an a creepy little guy looking like the ren fair leper time forgot came in. “Gentlemen, I hope I’m not disturbing you. A moment of your time?”  
  
Four more leper-enactors came in. They smelled vile – like garbage and burlap. Before Spike could come up with a witty one-liner, it was fighting time.  
  
“Spike?”  
  
Spike stupidly paused, looking at Riley, who was looking back at him, and well, wasn’t that a stupid way to lose a fight?  
  
***  
  
Spike’s day proceeded so badly that getting stuffed into a foul-smelling sack was almost the highlight of it. He was tortured by a hell-god. He was carried humiliatingly by humans, and was pretty sure he wasn’t remotely sexy or dangerous-looking when Riley laid him down on his crypt slab.  
  
But then, he’d gotten an unexpected gift. A chaste kiss. A thank-you. Somehow, a strange idea that he’d done The Right Thing. Was this swelling in his chest what drove the good guys to keep fighting when they knew they would lose? He supposed it must be. He watched her swishing skirt disappear through the crypt door.  
  
Someone cleared his throat. Spike turned so fast his head swam, his vision darkening. He held a hand to his head to keep his brain inside it. Well, it felt like that.  
  
Riley stood there, holding a duffle bag over one shoulder and biting his lip. “I… I saw everything.”  
  
“Did you? How lovely.” Spike laid back on the nice, cold stone. “Bugger off.”  
  
He heard the duffle set down and unzip. Then he flinched as something cool and wet touched his face. He opened his eyes – with difficulty. He tried to push Riley’s hand away, but his heart wasn’t entirely in it. Riley washed the blood from his face with care.  
  
“You don’t need to clean my wounds, you berk. Can’t get infected.”  
  
Riley kept at his work, brushing thoroughly, hurting at times with the sure pressure and slow sweep of the rag, but it was a good kind of hurt, the hurt of care and mending and… Spike shut his thoughts down before they got too sentimental. He let Riley move him, lifting each hand to clean the sores on his wrists. The bandages were clean and dry and felt heavenly.  
  
Spike fidgeted, wanting Riley to say something, but he didn’t, just kept at his work, focused on his task, like he saw wounds and skin, not the person in front of him. Spike licked his cracked lips. “So did I manage to make you jealous at last?”  
  
“Yes, Spike. You did.” Riley put Spike’s hand on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his torso. “Can you sit up? Pull on me if you need to.”  
  
“Berk.” Spike bit his lip and did as bidden. “I’ve had worse than this, you know. Hell, I’ve had worse than this and we called it a fun evening in with the family.”  
  
Once Spike was upright, Riley passed the bandages around his torso, covering his chest wounds. As he unwound the roll, Riley said, “It killed me, seeing how much you care for Buffy. That you care more about her than me.”  
  
“I don’t believe it! You sad wanker!”  
  
Riley’s eyes met his at last, hot with anger. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been wanting something more from me, some declaration of… of something. But that’s no reason to kick me while I’m down.”  
  
Spike had to briefly flight his way past Riley’s hands to cup his face. “When I say ‘you sad wanker’ it means ‘kiss me’.”  
  
Riley instantly looked lost again. “But… Buffy?”  
  
“Buffy’s a dream. A fantasy. You’re here, idiot, and you’re warm and alive and despite myself I fucking love you. Twat.”  
  
Slowly, Riley’s lip jerked up into a tentative smile. “I think I’d be perfectly happy right now, if it weren’t for all the insults.”  
  
Spike pressed his cut, bleeding lips to Riley’s, and the kiss hurt, but that made it better, like love was supposed to hurt. Riley’s big arms wrapped around him, radiating heat through stiff bandages and stiff muscles.  
  
Gently, Riley pulled away. “Easy,” he said. “Easy. Here. Swing your legs over this side of the sarcophagus. I want to see how your feet are.”  
  
Spike winced at the motion as a laugh escaped him. “Why the bloody hell do you want to inspect my feet?”  
  
“I don’t think I can carry you all the way to my place.”  
  
Spike pretended affront as Riley wiped and examined his soles. “You’d bloody well better not try to carry me! I’m a grown man and I don’t need to be carried.” Riley looked up at him, amused and reproving. “Much. Any more. Than I was already today.” Spike twitched with embarrassment.  
  
Riley declared his feet fit for travel and helped him on with his boots. His arm was strong and supporting under Spike’s shoulders, but he didn’t make out like he was helping him walk. Spike was painfully grateful for that. “So why didn’t you drop me at your place to start with?”  
  
“You were in love with Buffy and I was jealous enough to want to punish you. Now shut up, you need your energy for the walk. It’s almost two miles to my dorm.”  
  
“What happened to your big SUV?”  
  
“Government owned it.”  
  
“Hell. I have to seduce a richer bloke next time.”  
  
“You didn’t seduce me,” Riley said. “I seduced you.”  
  
Slowly, both smiling, they made their way home.  
  
THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Holy cow, she did it again - have a Sequel!


End file.
